


The Witch's Promise

by Thesseli



Series: Prodigies [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Crossover, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Earth-Warders, F/M, M/M, Memory Alteration, Post-Episode: s01e06 The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23793640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesseli/pseuds/Thesseli
Summary: Oh, she’d grown up knowing about magical beings and non-mortal intelligences and entities from other planes of existence, but actually meeting the two celestials at the onset of Armageddon had shaken her to the core.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Prodigies [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606876
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	1. The Witchfinders

Anathema Device wasn’t sure what she should be feeling, when she heard the request from Crowley and Aziraphale. 

Oh, she’d grown up knowing about magical beings and non-mortal intelligences and entities from other planes of existence, but actually meeting the two celestials at the onset of Armageddon had shaken her to the core. When faced with them, she’d been afraid...especially since it had been the angel, not the demon, who’d actually advocated killing a child -- and Antichrist or not, he was still a child. Not even the demon had wanted to do that. Weren’t angels supposed to be the good guys? In fact, the demon seemed to have a soft spot for kids, it was clear from both his actions and his aura. And in fact it had been Crowley who’d stopped time, to help the nascent Antichrist find the strength to fight his (former) father.

But Anathema knew, deep in her soul, that it had been both celestials who’d literally risked everything to save humanity.

In the end, of course, she’d agreed to aid them. Which is how one angel (ex-angel?) and his possibly-ex-demon companion came to be sitting on her sofa on a Saturday afternoon, drinking tea. Newt had explained the importance of tea in their culture…British culture, that is, not celestial culture...and he was much better at preparing it than he’d ever been at fixing computers.

“We believe the memory erasure was to prevent divided loyalties after the Rebellion,” Aziraphale stated, sipping his tea from the cup Newt had just refilled. “No allegiances to anyone on the other side. Knowledge of previous close relationships would make things much more difficult, for both Head Offices.”

“That certainly makes sense,” she agreed. She still wasn’t entirely comfortable around them. “What you two have described will take some powerful magic to undo, though. It’s going to take a while to gather everything I need to get started on it...and even then, I don’t know how thorough the results will be. It may be very slow going.”

The angel smiled at her contentedly, and linked his hand with Crowley’s. Their auras had entwined again, she noted. “We have all the time in the world, my dear.”

There was a knock at the door then, followed by the sound of a young, enthusiastic, and very familiar voice. “Miss Anathema! It’s us, can we come in?”

The witch could positively feel the brightening of Crowley’s aura at that. “Of course, come in everyone,” she called, getting up to greet the children at the door.

“Hello Miss Anathema, Newt,” said Adam, followed by the rest of The Them. “Hello Mr. Aziraphale, Mr. Crowley. We saw your car outside and decided to come say Hi.”

“It’s very good to see all of you again,” Crowley replied graciously.

“Did you come for a visit? How long will you be staying?” Adam asked.

“To be honest, we’re not sure,” said the demon, glancing at Aziraphale. “Depends on how long it takes to do this.” 

“Whatever it is, we want to help too!” Adam said. The other children nodded in agreement. Even Dog, whose tail was wagging fiercely, seemed to be offering his support.

“We do have a bit of a problem, one that can only be solved by magic.” This was from Aziraphale. “We’ve exhausted all our own resources, I’m afraid. I do hate imposing on Miss Device and dragging her into all this, but…”

“You’re not dragging me into anything,” she replied. “You two risked your lives to save the Earth and everyone on it; I *want* to do this.” It was the truth, and acknowledging it seemed to lighten something within her. She turned back to The Them. “We were just about to go over the list of spell components that I’ll need to undo some memory-erasing magic on our friends here.”

“It’s ancient celestial magic, six thousand years old, so I can only imagine how long it will take us to get everything,” added Crowley, as if wanting to give the kids an easy way out if they were unable (or unwilling) to commit their time to this project.

“We can still help,” declared Pepper. Brian and Wensleydale agreed.

Aziraphale regarded the children, clearly trying to phrase his next words as diplomatically as possible. “There, ah… may not be very much you can do, right now,” he said, looking at Adam.

Adam just grinned. “Don’t worry about that,” he replied. “I may not have superpowers anymore, but all four of us are great at internet searches. Just tell us what you need and we’ll get right on it.”

To her surprise, Anathema was starting to get a very good feeling about this. “Let me get you kids some snacks,” she said, “and then we can get started on that list.”


	2. World Enough and Time

It had taken months, but all the ingredients had been gathered, and Anathema Device was ready to perform the most complex magical working of her life.

The timing of the work had been carefully planned. Waning moon, best for banishing spells and for doing magic to cleanse impurities, paired with the planetary hour most suited for revealing hidden secrets. The approaching summer solstice would help shine light into the darkness, and even the currents of the land itself seemed eager to lend their aid to the two who’d risked everything to save it. Still, she was uncertain how successful the working would be. Undoing celestial magic? She’d never done anything remotely near this scale before.

Now that it was time, all participants – celestial beings and humans of various ages – were gathered in the cottage, where Anathema went over the final details of what was going to happen. It was probably just a formality at this point, although she wanted the two who would be the at the epicenter of the spell to know exactly what they were getting into. This might not be pleasant.

“It could be like ripping off a band-aid,” she warned. “Or like setting off a bomb.” 

“Do what you need to do,” said Crowley determinedly. Aziraphale nodded.

Both were clearly nervous, no matter what they said or how confident they were trying to appear. This was the moment of truth. But she knew they were still firmly resolute in their desire to see this through, no matter what happened. She couldn’t blame them. The chance to regain a forgotten part of their history was too, well...tempting. “It would be best if the two of you were in physical contact,” she stated.

The two were already seated within the circle on the living room floor, marked out with various crushed minerals and powdered herbs, with Newt and the Them watching from the periphery. The angel and demon glanced at each other, then grasped each other’s hands. “Will this do?” Aziraphale asked.

She smiled at them. “It will do perfectly.” Then she raised her arms, gathering the energies together before letting them flow outward to begin the spell.

The two celestials continued gazing at each other, surrounded by swirls of magic. Anathema had the feeling the energies were strong enough for even the non-magical people there to sense, which was confirmed a moment later.

“What are you seeing?” asked Newt, knowing his partner was able to visualize what was happening much better than he could.

“It’s like…seeing an empty space filling with light,” she said, as she continued to direct the spell. The celestials’ auras, always so entwined with each other, were now even more so, and she could feel the arcane blockage in both of them beginning to dissolve. 

Crowley and Aziraphale stared into each other’s eyes, transfixed, unable to move as the spell did its work. The demon was the first to speak. “I did know you,” he whispered in awe.

“Crowley…oh, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, tears of pure joy running down his face. “How could they have taken you from me?” He caressed the demon’s cheek fondly. “Raphael. My beloved Raphael. How I’ve missed you.” 

Newt’s eyebrows shot up. “Raphael?” he mouthed to Anathema. “As in *the* Raphael, the archangel Raphael?”

She nodded at him, wide-eyed, but never let her concentration falter.

The euphoria in the angel’s expression was matched by the demon’s, and he rested a hand over Aziraphale’s. “Angel. My angel, then and now,” he murmured. “How could they have ever made me forget you?” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the blond’s, blinking away tears of his own. 

“They never could have kept this from us forever,” the angel promised, kissing him softly on the lips. “Please know that I loved you just as much then as I do now.”

“Same for me, angel,” he breathed. “No wonder I’ve always been drawn to you. You were there from the beginning, before the Earth and before the war. I loved you then, and I still loved you even when I was being cast out. You were my last thought as I Fell. You, and…” He shook his head and coughed, clearing his throat before speaking again. "You, and..."

Crowley’s voice trailed off, the bliss on his face replaced by confusion, and a moment later by sheer horror. “Oh no,” he gasped, bolting upright with a start. “Oh no, no, no…”


	3. Hell Bent

Crowley was screaming and thrashing so wildly that it took all of Aziraphale’s strength to hold him down. The others had scattered, hastily backing away from the confines of the circle, and were now watching the angel and the demon with wide, frightened eyes. Crowley saw none of this, too trapped in his memories of burning to comprehend anything but pain.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale called, trying to get through to him. The demon wanted to bolt, to fly as far and as fast as his wings could carry him, but something was holding him down. Try as he might, he couldn’t throw it off. His fingernails turned to claws and dug into the floor, scales appearing and disappearing over his skin as he continued to scream.

Mustering as much power as he could, Aziraphale worked a not-so-minor miracle. There was an eerie resonance to his voice when he spoke again. “Be not afraid,” he commanded.

Crowley stopped thrashing and fell silent, although he was still gasping for breath. His fully serpentine eyes were darting wildly, but his breathing gradually evened out, long shudders giving way to silent weeping.

“My love,” the angel whispered sadly, brushing back the hair from Crowley’s forehead. “He has just relived his Fall, I believe.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Anathema. “Is there anything we can do to help?” She and the others had returned to the edge of the circle, and she brushed away some of the herbs and mineral powder with her foot. There was no magic left within it other than what the celestials carried within themselves.

Aziraphale pulled the demon into his arms. “Alcohol. As much as you’ve got.” Realizing how desperate he sounded, he cleared his throat. “I will of course compensate you for the cost, once this is all over—“

“Aziraphale. Don’t be silly,” she stated firmly. “You should know by now that you and Crowley are our friends, and we’ll do whatever we can to help the both of you. Newt, can you bring us a few bottles of…well, everything we have?”

“Already on it,” he replied, disappearing deeper into the cottage.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said softly, blinking away the moisture from his eyes. Now that Crowley was calm and apparently unconscious, the angel let out a shuddering breath of his own. “I should have expected this. I should have known this could happen, that he might relive his Fall…”

“I think he knew it was a possibility,” the witch offered gently. 

“And he went ahead and agreed to this anyway,” the angel murmured. “He is so incredibly brave, you know. The bravest person I’ve ever met.”

She smiled at him. “After what you did, and what you’re doing now? All of us here think both of you are pretty brave, to be honest.”

This earned her a smile in response. “Thank you, my dear. But I’m not brave. If I had been, I would have told Crowley how I felt about him years ago. I never would have been so cruel as to deny I was even his friend…”

“Angel,” Crowley groaned hoarsely, shifting in his embrace. “Don’t…don’t put yourself down. We’ve been over this. You did what you had to, to protect both of us.” He sighed, opening his eyes. He appeared to be coming back to himself, but then another wave of pain washed over his face. “Angel,” he gasped.

Newt, newly returned with the alcohol, hurried to the celestials’ side. Crowley grabbed one of the bottles, pulled out the cork, and promptly guzzled half of it. “More,” he practically begged. “Please, I can’t talk about this sober, and I *need* to talk about it, otherwise I’ll go mad.”

The angel handed him another bottle, resigned to wait until Crowley was able to talk. The demon had nearly finished the third when he spoke again.

“When I was…Falling,” Crowley whispered, staring down into his lap. “I could feel my grace burning away. It…it hurt.”

“My love, I am so sorry, both that you ever went through it and that you had to go through it again tonight.” Aziraphale grasped his hand. “I cannot imagine how terrible it must have been for you.”

Crowley looked up at him again, clearly already under the effects of the alcohol. “But that wasn’t the most terrible thing,” he replied hollowly. He sounded immensely weary. “As I felt my grace burn from my essence, I started to feel…something else. Something inside me.” He shook his head and took another long drink. “Another essence inside mine. And its grace was burning away too.”

Aziraphale stared at him in shock. “I…I didn’t know that was even possible.”

“None of us would have known, then. We were still too new, to know what intimacy and mingling our essences might do.” He held the bottle like it suddenly might disappear from his hands.

“What happened to it?” Aziraphale practically hissed.

Crowley closed his eyes again, fighting back against fresh tears. “I don’t know. I can’t remember, I lost those memories when I Fell.”

Newt gazed back and forth between them. “Am I missing something here?” he asked.

It was Pepper who supplied the answer. “I think what Mr. Crowley is saying,” she began carefully, “Is that when he Fell, he was the angelic version of pregnant.”


	4. An Unearthly Child

Anathema nodded in wonder at the idea. She’d known beings from the non-physical planes didn’t need physical intimacy to reproduce, although she’d never considered that those from the celestial realm might do so. But it was obvious it had happened accidentally in this case.

“Did…did it not survive?” The angel’s voice was softer now, still cradling the demon in his arms.

Crowley took a breath. “I didn’t feel it die,” he replied slowly. “It was there, and then it wasn’t. Not dead, just…away.” He ran a hand through his hair, brow furrowed in confusion as he fought to remember. “I think I tried to protect it, once I realized what it was. Cocoon it, push it away so I wouldn’t drag it down with me. That was the idea, and I think, at least, I was able to do that.”

“It didn’t end up in Hell?” Aziraphale asked hopefully.

“No, no, it couldn’t have…I would have recognized it as mine once I was there, even without my memories,” Crowley assured him. “It would have been familiar. We would have been the same, in some ways. It would have been obvious.”

The angel smiled gently. “I suppose it would have been hard for you not to notice someone else with gorgeous red hair and amber eyes.”

“Could it have stayed in Heaven instead?” asked Adam curiously.

“I doubt it,” replied Anathema. “Crowley was already Falling, and he could feel the other essence losing its grace as well. Unless…Aziraphale, can you recall any unfamiliar angels from around that time, probably of a much lower rank than you or an archangel?”

He shook his head. “No. And I would certainly remember one that looked like Crowley.”

“It never could have stayed in Heaven, that I do know,” Crowley stated. “Demons can create new demons with each other – subdemons like the Lilim, for example – and now we know that angels can do the same with other angels. But I wasn’t an angel then. I was Falling. Neither myself nor another essence within me would have still had the grace to remain there.” 

“If your…child…did survive, then it was something that had never existed before or since. The product of an angel and a demon,” said Anathema.

“That…would not have been a stable state to exist in,” said Aziraphale, at length. “It would have been like if I’d tried to inhabit Crowley’s body after I’d been discorporated. The two halves would have been incompatible.”

Adam’s eyes were wide. He was well aware of what it felt like to be two very different things in one. “But what does that mean?”

“It’s a being at war with itself,” the witch stated solemnly. “Both angel and demon, with parts that don’t mesh properly. It’s unstable. Very unstable.”

“And made even more so by the circumstances of its ‘birth’,” said Crowley. “I know what having your grace burned from you can do to a mature celestial being…what do you think it’s going to do to one newly-formed? To the equivalent of a child?” 

“If it’s still out there.” 

Aziraphale looked away, unwilling to let the others see the expression on his face. “Whatever and wherever it is…it’s still burning.”

Crowley closed his eyes. “It never had a chance.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get rid of whoever it is,” promised Newt. But the instant he opened the door to send them off, a loud voice echoed through the cottage.

“Witchfinder Private Pulsifer!” bellowed Shadwell. “Stand down! I’m not here for ye’r witch.”

“It’s so good to see you all again!” called Madame Tracy from his side, darting inside and waving. “We got here as quickly as we could. Couldn’t take the scooter this time, flying or otherwise!”

“Hello,” said Anathema weakly, looking back and forth between the new arrivals. “Forgive me, but…what are you two doing here?”

“I knew you were in a bit of a pickle, so we had to come down,” she explained, and tapped the side of her head. “I think I’ve got a wee bit of a connection to our dear Mr. Fell here, you see. I could tell he and Mr. Crowley were in trouble.” 

“Thank you, but I’m afraid you’re too late,” Aziraphale said ruefully. “The ritual to bring back our memories is already over…along with the rather traumatic revelations it brought with it.”

Shadwell rolled his eyes. “Not that trouble, laddies,” he replied, and then grinned. “We’re here to help ye find ye’r wee bairn.”


	5. Heaven Sent

Crowley blinked. Shadwell’s wandering accent aside, there was something he wasn’t taking into account. “This all happened six thousand years ago. Even if it did survive my Fall, I doubt it’s much of a ‘wee bairn’ any longer.”

“It did survive,” Tracy declared. “*He* survived.”

Crowley felt his visage soften. “He?”

She smiled gently. “He.”

Aziraphale’s expression was a combination of hope and something almost unreadable. “What happened to him?” he asked, his blue eyes wide. “Where is he now?”

Tracy’s next words were apologetic. “That part of the psychic vision wasn’t clear. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you have six thousand years of Earth’s history to search.”

The angel’s face fell. “Six thousand years?” he repeated.

Crowley nodded slowly. “I think I may have manipulated time, when I did…whatever it was that I did when I hid him.” He frowned. “But tracking down an unknown celestial can’t be all that hard, can it?” He glanced at the witch. “I mean, you did it with Adam, right?”

Anathema stared at him incredulously. “Not exactly,” she replied. “I was able to get close, but I never actually found him. Not with magic. He had some kind of arcane protection field around him, something that shielded him from magical perception. When I got too close the signal swamped me; too far away and I couldn’t get an accurate fix on him. After I got to Tadfield, I had to figure it out on my own.”

“So what you’re saying is we basically have to scan all of recorded history, searching for something that reads as neither angel nor demon but that’s somehow similar to each, something unknown and unaccounted for by both Heaven and Hell,” he said flatly, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. His own cleverness and his instinct to protect his and Aziraphale’s offspring had come back to – as the humans say – bite him in the arse. 

Anathema sighed. “This is going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Or a black hole in the middle of a galaxy,” he groaned…but then, when he realized what he’d just said, he leapt to his feet. “That’s it. That’s exactly how we’re going to find him.” He gazed at the others expectantly, a huge smile on his face. “You know the way you can’t see a black hole, because not even light can escape from it?”

“No,” said the angel, a bit put out for not understanding the reference; but Newt and the Them were nodding as what Crowley meant became clear.

“Astronomers and astrophysicists can tell where a black hole is located not because they can see it with their telescopes, but because they can see the effects it has on the objects near it,” the demon explained, still sounding very enthusiastic. “They’re invisible, but they warp space and destroy matter that gets too close to them, and that releases huge amounts of energy and light that scientists *can* detect.”

“So we can fine tune our search not for an unknown celestial being, but for the unusual effects it might cause – occult or ethereal energies with no obvious source, supernatural occurrences, anything strange or out of the ordinary with a possible celestial signature,” Anathema finished. “And that we *can* use magic for.”

“And we can keep searching online for any hints about where you should direct the search!” added Adam. He was almost as excited as Crowley, and the other kids looked like they felt the same way.

“Again,” the demon said ruefully, “This may take a great deal of time, and we don’t want to impose on any of you.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he declared, with everyone else in complete agreement. “Mr. Aziraphale, Mr. Crowley…we promise, we’re all gonna help you find your son!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=304WfksyWg0 -- "So don't you wait up for him, he's going to be late."
> 
> POV change in the next story.


End file.
